The Battlecry
by Kari Anna
Summary: Chloe wants her husband back, whether that's God's plan or not....AU warning. NickBuck slash. Rated for some language and mentions of violence.
1. The Team

DISCLAIMER: As always, I do not own _Left Behind,_ or the characters thereof.

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**PART ONE**

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**The Team**

In a way, he supposed, it was beautiful.

To others.

To him, it was only a hunk of metal, wiring and assorted hardware that was going to help the Tribulation Force get a member back. David Hassid couldn't understand how Cameron Williams, a journalist and fellow Christian, could have wound up in such a situation, but hopefully keeping watch over him and Carpathia would give some clues as to how Buck was being controlled.

So, rather than lazily glancing at the screens once every twenty or thirty minutes or unplugging them completely, to tinker with like many of his coworkers did, he watched with alacrity from the beginning of his shift to the end.

Captain Rayford Steele hadn't completely settled into the little apartment on the New Babylon base, and there would never be a day when he would move everything in. Most of his earthly possessions would remain in the little house in Mount Prospect. But he and Chloe had brought enough with them that it would probably take one or two more weeks to finish unpacking. Right now, however, he had to abandon that. He'd promised he'd go meet with Hassid at one for a late lunch. Chloe wasn't too keen on being alone in the same city as the Antichrist, with or without God's protection.

"Mind if I tag along?" she asked after voicing her insecurity. "Besides, I'm hoping he's heard from--"

Rayford gave her a hug, but said firmly, "Don't get your hopes up, honey. That way, if there's no good news, you're not let down."

"And if there is?"

"You'll be pleasantly surprised."

The men had chosen a small restaurant in a small blink-and-you-miss-it town about a forty-five minute drive from New Babylon. The place was family owned and operated, and all four of the people working there had the seal of God on their foreheads. They seemed quite overjoyed to have customers who shared their beliefs and love for the Lord. Apparently, another pilot at HQ had recommended the restaurant to her father, and the owners of the little shop talked for a while with Ray about this guy-- Mac.

When their menus were brought, it was obvious what had originally drawn Mac to this place two months ago. According to Chloe's father, Mac had only become a Christian himself three days ago. So it wasn't the comraderie of having people with like beliefs that had led him to discover the little restaurant. It was the food. Mac l-o-v-e-d loved Mexican food, and it was the only Mexican restaurant within driving distance that wasn't _in_ New Babylon. The place just got to be too much sometimes, Mac had told Ray. Understandable. Everywhere you looked in that city, there were posters, portraits, statues or souvenirs featuring the Potentate.

"They shoulda named it Carpathia City," the pilot muttered as he took a bite of his taco. _Mmm..._ It was every bit as good as Mac had said. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had one this good. Shredded beef was so much better than ground.

David laughed. "Just don't tell him that. He might actually have Leon make it happen."

Chloe snorted. "You mean the weird old guy who keeps claiming Carpathia raised him from the dead? I'm surprised anyone believes him about that. Have you heard him talk about it? It's the most ridiculous thing."

"Yeah. Speaking of ridiculous, got any news for us?" Ray asked.

The other man shook his head, frustration crinkling his forehead. "Not unless you want to hear the details of their first kiss."

Chloe blanched, and Ray just looked a bit green around the gills.

"Not particularly."


	2. The Kiss

Honestly! Did you guys think I was mean enough to keep the details of Nick and Buck's first kiss to myself? Of course I'm not :D So this chapter begins six hours before the last one did. And any Bible verses included will be Authorized King James Version, unless otherwise noted.

DISCLAIMER: You telling me I have to admit that I don't own any of this is like me saying you should stand on your roof and scream, "I KNOW BETTER THAN TO JAB MYSELF WITH A KNIFE!" What these disclaimers have in common with what you'd be screaming is that both are common knowledge and plain good sense.

NOTE: I don't recall any names of militia people being mentioned, other than Pres. Fitzhugh, the Egyptian guy, and the Brit prime minister. I figured there would be others resisting something like the GC, so I made up my very own militia man and woman. Do not steal Glenn Larcy or Hino Midori (whose name, by the way, is Japanese. So Midori is her personal name-- what most of us westerners call a "first name.")

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**PART TWO**

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**The Kiss**

Buck and and Steve Plank flanked Nicolae at the small, homey wooden table the meeting was taking place around. The trio was hearing out the grievances of the heads of large militia factions from several countries. They had surrendered on the condition that their cases be heard and reasonable compromises reached. Buck was sitting in on the meeting on behalf of the journalists of the _Weekly_, since he was there anyway. He just listened and took notes.

One militia person, a Japanese woman, demanded, "And how do we know that you will not continue to bomb our country, as you did to the United States of America?"

Buck tried not to wince. That _was_ going to be hard for Nicolae to get people to see past, and he himself had been questioning it in his head. How could he trust this man who called himself a pacifist one day and had bombs dropped on innocent people the next? _Not_, he suspected, _that I could stop trusting him anyway._

In any event, he listened very closely to Nicolae's reply. "There were confirmed militia bases in the places that we acted against. I must talk it over with the heads of the various regions first, but we may institute a policy that we will not strike until a strike is attempted against us first. And although I had promised to crush the resistance, you will note that I did not say I would continue to destroy or retaliate against those countries. I seek only peace between us, Hino-san," Nicolae replied respectfully.

That seemed to satisfy Hino Midori, because her body language no longer declared hostility. Then a man from Ireland piped in, "But you want us to give up our weapons. All of them? Even heirlooms? I can't accept that, and there are many others who won't either. And what about those who carry concealed weapons, like guns, because they went through something traumatic at the hands of a stronger person? Some of them do that without any intention of using it, just because it makes them feel safe."

Buck had to admit, the man made some good points. Nicolae told the Irishman, Glenn Larcy, "I do understand your concerns. Old muskets, heirloom swords and such are things you may keep. Hunting rifles will also be your choice to give or keep. However, any concealable guns must be given to the GC. As for those who carry such things for protection because of trauma in their past, they are free to keep or obtain their concealed weapon permit for knives or stunguns, but the GC will help by enlarging the police force. Any reports of police brutality will be swiftly and justly acted upon."

That seemed to placate Larcy. After another hour and a half of hostile interrogation by the militiamen and women, and Nicolae pacifying them, the meeting finally ended. Buck sighed. They'd had to get up at four in the morning to get ready for it, because most of these people were in the habit of starting the day very early. Weary and irritable with hunger, since it was about time for breakfast, he trotted back toward Nicolae's suite. They traded off on whose suite they'd have their meals in and who would cook. It was Buck's turn to cook and Nicolae's turn to clean up afterward.

He got all the ingredients for making waffles, and when the batter was made he dug around in the cabinets for the waffle iron. He wanted to be writing, but for the time being, he decided to just let his mind wander. Buck still hadn't told Nicolae the details of his trip to Mount Prospect. Only that Chloe had signed the divorce papers. He also hadn't told Nicolae about the emails he'd been getting from her about how much she missed him, asking when he was coming home. Or the ones from Ray that were nothing but Scriptures and quotes from various Christian books about the sin of sodomy and how the Antichrist was damned, and passages from the Bible that described Hell.

He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning against the counter. He kind of wished they would just leave him alone. Or do whatever it was they wanted to do and be done with it.

"What is wrong, Buck?"

Buck pushed away from the counter, straightened his shoulders, and pretended there were no problems with his ex-wife or his former father-in-law. "Nothing, just thinking."

"You are not as good at lying as you believe you are," Nicolae said, invading Buck's personal space a little.

Cornered, both converstionally and physically, the journalist sighed and replied, "It's the emails I've been getting from Chloe and Ray. The sender isn't identified on any of them, but I can tell who it is."

"I was wondering what has been troubling you," Nicolae said with a frown. "There is nothing you cannot tell me."

Buck gave him a weary smile. "I know, but--"

Forgoing politeness this once, Nicolae interrupted, "You try too hard to be independant. Let those who care about you help you occasionally."

By this time, the distance between them was a mere few inches. Buck wasn't sure how they'd gotten that close, but he was sure that it was himself who closed the gap. Nicolae's lips were soft against his own, and tasted vaguely of cinnamon. And he didn't have to crane his head way down to kiss him. _No more sore neck after_-- his thoughts were cut off when Nicolae's mouth opened, his tongue mapping out Buck's lips. He stumbled slightly, Nicolae following him, and felt the edge of the counter dig into his lower back. He opened his mouth in a reflexive, "Ow," but the word was lost in the sensation of the other man's tongue-- _Oh!_ A little moan, and he wasn't sure who'd made it. Then Nicolae slowly pulled back, and Buck noticed Nicolae's hands on the counter on either side of him.

Both struggled to catch their breath. When Buck did get his, he murmured, "That helped."

Nicolae laughed. Then, an odd look crossed his face. "Something is burning."

"Oh, crap, the waffles!" He dove toward the waffle iron and yanked the burnt food out with his bare hands. Then his brain sent the nerves in his hand a pain signal and he reflexively tossed the waffle away with a loud, "Yowch! Aah, hot!"

Nicolae turned the tap on, got the cold water going and yanked Buck over to run his burned fingers under it. Buck sighed in relief. "Note to self: bare hands and burnt food don't mix."

Nicolae shook his head, grinning. "I should think a smart man like you would have known that already." When Buck drew his fingers away from the cold spray, he asked, "How do they feel?"

"A little odd, but they don't hurt anymore," Buck answered.

Nicolae massaged the injured fingers, which were still red, and then threaded his own between them. His eyes met Buck's, and there was a comfortable silence. Each knew how the other felt. They didn't need words.

The computer in the corner pinged, and Buck jumped. Nicolae squeezed his hand gently, then went to check the message, leaving Buck to finish making breakfast.

It was Buck's inbox that had a new message. Nicolae frowned at it. There was no name or adress to identify the sender. He opened it, revealing only the words, _Now the Spirit speaketh expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart from the faith, giving heed to seducing spirits, and doctrines of devils. --I Timothy 4:1_


	3. The Deal

I know FFdotNet has forbade and made obsolete the in-post replies to reviews, but I feel this is necessary, all things considered.

Punker88: I _do_ love feedback, but make up your mind. Reviews as short and pointless as the ones you've been giving me say you'd rather be doing something else. Either give a _decent_ review (what is it you like about the chapter, story, whatever), or don't bother reviewing, please. I don't mean to be harsh, but it gets irritating after a while.

DISCLAIMER: HA!

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**PART THREE**

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**The Deal**

_God, please give me the courage to do whatever I have to in order to get Buck back,_ Chloe prayed silently before getting out of the Range Rover. She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and tried not to think about how the owner of this place had gained the money to buy the enormous Gothic stone building in front of her. Despite the fact that that was exactly what she had come to him about.

She strode to the door with confidence she didn't feel, and used the doorknocker to give the door a few hearty thumps. Almost immediately it swung open. It didn't creak like she had half expected it to, even though the hinges looked as old as sin. _And just as ugly, _Chloe thought. The maid who had answered the door gave her a smile that showed she'd probably had surgery to plump up her lips, greeting her far too cheerfully for a place as spooky as this.

Chloe was a good fifteen minutes early for her appointment. The maid showed her to a sitting room with beautiful furniture that fit with the old Gothic theme of the mansion and looked about as comfortable as if it had been made of pins and needles. The maid left, and Chloe kept herself occupied with scanning the titles of the books on the many tall redwood bookshelves.

A voice behind her startled her just after she'd started on the second bookcase. "It was kind of you to come early, Miss."

She didn't think she could ever get used to associating such a kind, soft voice with someone so cold-hearted. "I make it a point to be punctual," Chloe said, turning to face the man.

He nodded, and replied, "As do I. So who is our man?"

Chloe dug in her purse and retrieved a photograph to show him. He whistled, raising an eyebrow. "My, but you do have high expectations, Miss." He looked her squarely in the eye, and the gentleness about the young man quickly faded. A cold, hard demeanor came over him. "I _do_ love a challenge."

"Good. Take your time-- as much as you need to do it right. And be careful." Chloe handed the man a wad of cash, the second to the last of five payments.

The man smiled coldly, sending a shiver of fear down her spine. "An assassin is _always_ careful."

The man with the dark, curly brown hair stepped up to the flight attendant who was taking flight tickets. He gave her a friendly smile. She smiled back, a pretty young thing who was probably not long out of high school. She pushed back her bangs, though none had fallen into her eyes, and glanced at his ticket. "Have a nice time in New Babylon, Mr. Godwin."

The dark-haired man just maintained his smile and headed for the plane. After all, he couldn't really say he would have a nice time. As good as he was at his job, he didn't necessarily like it. _But,_ he reminded himself, _it pays the bills. And that's what matters._ He shuddered the slightest bit as he boarded the plane. All_ that matters._

The dark-haired man got off the plane as Nathaniel Godwin, and checked into a hotel not far from the Global Community building as Alex Coleman. As he entered the hotel lobby, he habitually began to mentally map out escape routes. He'd never been caught yet, but... just in case.

When that was over with, he went downtown to a specific bar he'd arranged to meet an old friend at. The kind of old friend who dealt in handguns and silencers. Then he could start making observations of the mark.


	4. The Shot

NOTE: Hey, I know most readers don't bother with these, but if you give a rip about the posting date of the next story, this is IMPORTANT. I was saving all of my writing to floppy, and because of that the disk got kind of overloaded or something, because it told me none of my documents could be opened and the disk had to get formatted. I didn't want to format it, because the computer said it would erase everything that was on the disk. So I thought, _Screw that!_ I had my cousin fix it (THANK YOU JOHNNY!) when he got home, but sentences, paragraphs, and two and a half chapters of the next fic got erased. So things may go a bit slower than I originally planned. Sorry, guys. I'll try to fix it just as quick as I can.

DISCLAIMER: Don't remind me. We'd all be better off if one of us had written the LB series, but unfortunately we didn't.

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**PART FOUR**

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**The Shot**

It had been another long day at the grindstone that was Global Community. Nicolae even seemed a bit worse for wear. Small bags under his eyes and a slight slowing of his movements said it all. It was as close to frazzled as Buck had ever seen him. Cameron yawned broadly, then sat down close to his... whatever Nicolae was, ready to veg out with him, a good movie, and the huge bowl of popcorn he'd popped.

Nicolae pressed the play button on the remote, and the pair ignored the previews in comfortable silence. For his part, Buck was too tired to talk. The week had been a crazy one; but then, it always was at GC. He had quickly discovered that working at the GC meant he was even busier than he'd been at the _Global Weekly,_ due to new connections and constant important meetings held here.

A lazy, somewhat tired smile crossed Buck's face as he poked the other man in the ribs. "Hey, you should take your own advice, Nicolae."

"And which bit of advice would that be?"

"The bit about taking a day off now and then so you don't wear yourself out," Buck responded.

"Oh yes. That." Nicolae grinned, stretching his arms. "Soon, perhaps."

Buck grabbed hold of the arm nearest him, and held it hostage. "I don't remember you letting an answer like that slide when _I_ needed rest."

The potentate chuckled. "You make a convincing argument, Buck."

He grinned. "You bet I do. Now relax, for once."

Buck let go of Nicolae's arm and slipped his own behind the Nicolae as the movie started.

* * *

_Those two are so touchy-feely!_ the assassin grumbled to himself. It would add to the challenge of such a public mark. Currently, the man with the darker hair had his arm around the mark, and the mark's head was soon blocked as the darker-haired one drew the other's head to his chest. That eliminated all the cleaner shots. It was best to take out the mark with one shot. If he had to shoot through a sofa to do it, the first bullet might not kill the mark. The assassin rocked back on his heels, remaining crouched on the rooftop. He could wait; he had great patience. 

Late that night, his patience paid off. The fair-haired target shifted, moving to kiss the other man. _So that's why that chick got me involved,_ he thought. He quickly pushed that thought away. He hated to think about it when he was pulling off a job to kill someone just because they were having an affair with the wrong person.

When the mark's companion got up, the mark settled back onto the sofa. A red dot moved along the wall, searching for a target.

* * *

Nicolae actually jumped at one point during the movie, a horror flick Buck had picked out. He turned, and noticed Buck was a little disturbed by the movie as well. He kissed Buck's lips gently, then murmured, "I will change the movie while you refill the popcorn bowl." 

Buck nodded and headed for the kitchen. If he'd been paying attention, he'd have seen it make its journey along the pale sandstone wall, but as it was he was distracted.

"Gotcha," the sniper whispered with a smirk. The slightest pressure on the trigger, and the King of the World would be out of commission, possibly for good. The red dot settled on the bit of upper back that was above the back of the sofa. _Look into the scope, make sure my aim is _perfect..._ HA!_

The mark was hit.

Shattering glass stopped Buck short. Tiny shards nicked him from the back. He whirled, froze briefly at the many sharp points of pain as the movement drove the glass framents deeper into his skin. "**NICOLAE!**"

Then another stab of pain made him gasp, and this time the wound was in his chest.

_I have to call an ambulance for Nicolae,_ was Cameron Williams's last thought.

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Yes, I realize how utterly evil/horrible/nasty/etc. I am for stopping there, but there's nothing like a cliffie to bring in reviews :D So, if you want the first chappie of the next story, (which I_do_ still have)I suggest you click the little purple button marked "Submit Review." Yeah, I'm holding it for ransom ;) 


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